


love me harder

by bageldiscourse



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: (Slightly), Bets & Wagers, Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-16 00:15:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13624500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bageldiscourse/pseuds/bageldiscourse
Summary: “You guys wanna bet on it?”“What do you want, fifty bucks?” Kevin says, playing an episode ofFriends.“You wanna get your dick sucked, babe?” Jimmy teases, mostly joking.It’s almost too easy for Brady to say, “If the Eagles win, I get to have my way with both of you.”





	love me harder

It starts the day the Vikings are eliminated from the playoffs by Philly.

(Really, if he’s being honest with himself, it started in the off-season when they’d first gotten together, but Brady is rarely honest with himself, so: it starts in January.)

And, okay—Brady would like to ignore the Superbowl in its entirety, now that his team’s out, but he also lives with two diehard New Englanders, so he knows that’s not a realistic option for him.

Brady’s not a very spiteful person, generally, but if Jimmy and Kevin are both going to be obnoxious about the Patriots’ nearly guaranteed win, Brady can root for the damn Eagles for a night just to mess with them a little.

Plus, like. Fuck the Pats is an opinion he can get squarely behind. He doesn’t completely understand the logic behind the sentiment, but he’s also not about to question it.

“Pats by a mile, right babe?” Jimmy says, absently scrolling through Twitter as Kevin finds something on Netflix for them to watch.

“Nah, I’m going Eagles,” Brady says, and the fully offended looks on Kevin and Jimmy’s faces are well worth having to say that sentence out loud.

“But the Eagles just beat—”

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you’re about to root against _Tom_ _Brady_ —”

“Why not, though?” Brady says, interrupting them both, grinning as he’s met with disbelieving stares. “Like, what’s so bad about the Eagles? Nothing’s really stopping me.”

“They’re playing the Patriots, that’s what’s stopping you,” Kevin says, like it’s obvious.

“What can I say, I love a good underdog,” Brady says, smug. “You guys wanna bet on it?”

“What do you want, fifty bucks?” Kevin says, playing an epispde of  _Friends_.

“You wanna get your dick sucked, babe?” Jimmy teases, mostly joking.

It’s almost too easy for Brady to say, “If the Eagles win, I get to have my way with both of you.”

“Like—” Jimmy says, and then he pauses. “Sexually?”

“Yes, you genius,” Brady says. “You’d think someone who went to Harvard would catch onto that sooner.”

“You really had to go there?” Jimmy asks, rolling his eyes. “Super original, never heard that one before.”

“And when the Pats win?” Kevin prompts.

“‘When’?” Brady asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

Kevin rolls his eyes. “If.”

“Well, then you two can do whatever you’d like to me,” Brady says.

“I mean, I don’t think anybody really loses here,” Jimmy points out.

“Pretty much,” Brady says.

Jimmy pretends to think about it for more than a split second before he says, “I’m in, then.”

“Yeah, okay, deal,” Kevin says.

They lapse into comfortable silence after that, but Brady can’t help but feel self-satisfied with how that went.

  
  


Later that same night, Jimmy takes a nap, and Kevin fucks Brady on the living room couch.

He goes slow, kisses Brady through it in the beginning, because Brady can be loud, one of his hands splayed across the middle of Brady’s chest, big and heavy, and Brady almost comes right then from that alone, if he’s being totally honest.

He doesn’t, because he’s an adult and he’s not totally embarrassing, thank you very much—but he does decide that if given the chance, he’d want Kevin to hold him down harder while fucking him.

The idea gets stored in the back of his head as he goes to shower, but it never really goes away, not until two weeks later.

  
  


Some of the best sex Brady’s ever had has been on accident.

Post-win when Kevin had been a bit rougher than usual, a little sloppier.

After a bad loss, when Jimmy had kissed him against the door, stuck his thigh between Brady’s legs and handled him less gently than Brady’s used to, channeled his frustration into it and all Brady could do was kiss back until he couldn’t possibly dream of doing anything else.

On off-days, when Kevin and Jimmy could both take their time with him, work him up almost to the edge and then backtrack, time after time until Brady was begging for it, and then he’d finally come with one of his hands pinned over his head, with one of their hands spread out on his hip without ever thinking much of it.

Brady still finds himself wanting _more_ , though. He honestly doesn’t expect the being held down thing to turn into, like, a capital-t Thing, but.

Four days later, Jimmy jerks him off agonizingly slowly, and every time Brady’s hips buck up involuntarily into the touch, Jimmy pulls away, steadies them with a hand on his hip. It’s enough to drive Brady crazy, so close but so far away from what he really wants.

“Can you—just—” Brady tries to say, _wants_ to say, but the words catch in his throat when Jimmy speeds up his strokes, and he’s coming a half minute later.

“What was that?” Jimmy asks, once he’s gotten himself off, too.

“It’s nothing,” Brady says quickly.

It’s fine. He could ask for it, if he really wanted it.

  
  


Super Bowl Sunday rolls around in no time, on an off day.

It starts off standard enough, with the Eagles and Patriots both scoring in the first half, though the Eagles take the lead into halftime.

“Down but not out,” Kevin says, like he’s trying to convince himself as well as Brady and Jimmy.

“Still plenty of time left,” Jimmy echoes.

Brady says nothing, just sits looking smug as they wait for the start of the second half.

The next thirty minutes of play are possibly the longest of Brady’s life, purely out of anticipation for what’s to come. It’s pretty clear that the game’s over not far into the third quarter, but Brady stays patient as Jimmy and Brady continue to make gradually more distressed noises toward their TV.

“Always bet on an underdog, boys,” Brady says, a little dreamy, as the final ten seconds on the clock wind down.

They sit in silence for a minute, Kevin and Jimmy no doubt trying to deal with the sting of the loss before Jimmy finally says, “Alright, your show. What’s your plan?”

“Bedroom first,” Brady says decisively. “You’ll see.”

Brady leads the way, as expected, and once they get there he tugs Kevin into a kiss with a sense of urgency that surprises even himself.

Kevin knows the way this goes, and he easily pushes Brady onto the bed, their lips never further than a breath apart as he works Brady’s sweats off.

“Wait,” Brady says, well on his way to being undressed, pulling away from Kevin. “I have to get something.”

“It can’t wait?” Kevin asks, incredulous.

“Absolutely not,” Brady says, and then he disappears into the other room.

When he comes back, a pair of Eagles snapbacks in his hand, Jimmy and Kevin are making out on the bed and almost don’t notice his presence at all until Brady says, “Guys, I’ve been gone for all of thirty seconds.”

Jimmy shrugs from his spot on the bed underneath Kevin. “Couldn’t wait, sue me.”

“What’s—” Kevin starts to say, as he looks over at the hat in Brady’s hands. “No. Absolutely not.”

“You’re kidding,” Jimmy says, with the tone of voice that tells Brady the answer has to be yes.

“Whose show is it, again?” Brady smirks, tossing one to Jimmy and fitting the other backwards over Kevin’s hair. “Suits you.”

“Don’t push it,” Kevin says.

“Okay, so, my plan,” Brady says, as he’s going through the bedside drawer and ignoring both their complaints, pausing for a minute until he comes away with a condom and the bottle of lube. “First, Haysie, you’re gonna fuck me.”

“Awesome plan, totally on board with that,” Kevin adds helpfully.

“I had a feeling you would be,” Brady says, handing the stuff to Kevin before lifting his shirt over his head. “Jimmy, babe? You can get yourself off, but—go slow, and don’t come ‘till I say so, okay?”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jimmy says. “First the hat, and now _this_ —”

“What was that?” Brady says sweetly, turning to look at Jimmy.

“Yes sir,” Jimmy nods, shooting Brady a mock salute.

Brady nods, satisfied, and goes back to Kevin, pulls him down into a kiss as he falls backward onto the bed.

“You ready?” Kevin asks, after a minute, with Brady growing increasingly more restless by the minute.

“Born ready,” Brady says, so Kevin slicks up a finger and slides it in slowly, watching Brady’s face as he lets Brady adjust to the feeling.

After a minute, he adds another, crooks both fingers just slightly until he hits a sweet spot, if Brady’s sigh is any indication.

“One more?” Kevin asks.

Brady nods, his eyes fluttering closed as Kevin obliges and adds a third.

His breath hitches in the back of his throat as Kevin works his finger in and slowly back out, and it takes him a minute before he says, “Fuck me, c’mon.”

“You sure you’re ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. C’mon, stick it in me, babe.”

Kevin huffs a laugh. “‘Stick it in me’, how romantic.”

“Kevin Patrick Hayes, if you don’t put your—”

“Okay, okay,” Kevin says, taking his fingers out and pulling away to roll on a condom.

Jimmy takes this opportunity to lean over, sucking a hickey into the curve of Brady’s neck, the sensitive spot above his collarbone, anywhere he can get his mouth on, really.

He’s not in Kevin’s way, as he does it, so Kevin slides in slowly, carefully, as Jimmy’s nipping at Brady’s jaw.

“Shit, Haysie,” Brady says, his words stuttering a little as Kevin bottoms out. “Yeah, just like that.”

Like he’s done before sometimes without thinking, Kevin pins Brady’s wrists to the bed as he fucks him, slow and lazy, but he stops in his tracks when he sees that Brady’s eyes are squeezed shut, his hips bucking up into the touch slightly.

“Is this—a thing for you?” Kevin asks.

“What?”

Kevin takes one of his hands away, moves it down Brady’s chest lightly, until Brady stops trying to suppress his noises and outright _groans_. “That.”

“I think that question just answered itself, yeah?” Jimmy says from the other side of the bed, a hand on his dick with no real urgency to it.

“Fuck off,” Brady mumbles. “It’s—not _not_ a thing—”

“I think it’s hot,” Kevin says, more of an in-between-breaths than a fully coherent idea.

“Just—could you—harder,” Brady says, barely audible unless you were listening for it, but Kevin knows what he wants, pushes down harder on Brady’s wrists, and that’s pretty much it for Brady.

He comes with a sigh, because that’s all he ever really wanted, and it’s not long at all before Kevin’s coming, too, with his fingers laced in Brady’s.

When Kevin’s pulled out and they’ve both come to, they look over at Jimmy, who’s naked and flushed from his neck down, letting out a shaky breath with every upstroke. He’s going slow, still, but with a more distinct purpose now, and Brady—Brady wants to make him work for it.

“You close?” Brady asks, leaning over to join Jimmy on the other side of the bed.

“I—yeah,” Jimmy says. “You wanna be on top?”

Brady doesn’t normally top, but he suddenly realizes how much he wants to see Jimmy’s face as he comes, so he says, “Yeah,” and moves to straddle Jimmy’s hips.

From there, Brady wants to figure out what Jimmy wants, exactly, but before he can ask, Jimmy’s canting his hips up slightly, rubbing off on Brady’s thigh, until he finds an angle that works. Once he does, he starts making these gorgeous noises, desperate and needy, and in the end, Brady’s the one who comes first.

Jimmy’s not far along behind him, coming with a broken-off gasp when Kevin’s the one to reach out and get a hand on his dick.

  
  


“I feel gross,” Jimmy says, after a minute.

“That was fun though, eh?” Brady says.

“Not bad,” Kevin says in agreement.

“Don’t lie, it was awesome,” Brady says.

“I’m gonna go shower—” Jimmy starts to say, but Brady tightens his grip on him before he can get up.

“Nope,” Brady says. “I’m tired, we’re gonna nap.”

Kevin is already well on his way to falling asleep, so Jimmy really only has one option here, which is to say, “Okay,” and let Brady curl up around him.

**Author's Note:**

> big thank u to lauren for putting up with my shit over the past few days while i tried to figure out how sex works! wouldn't be here without her.
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/bboesers)


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